Beyond Scared Straight
by DesolateMoondust
Summary: This is a one-shot piece inspired by the show Beyond Scared Straight, and features the second generation of Skins. Will the intervention program set these teenagers straight or will they continue down the path of delinquency? Naomi POV / Naomily


**So I was watching an episode of Beyond Scared Straight and wondered how awesome it would be if the teens were situated in America and had their parents enroll them into this kind of intervention program, seeing as Skins features a **_**lot**_** of illegal activity. I opened up Word to brainstorm and now here we are!  
**

**So without further ado, I present to you Beyond Scared Straight, Skins style! I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skins or Beyond Scared Straight; this is just what happens when I have too much time on my hands. ****M rating for language! **  


* * *

**Beyond Scared Straight**

"Ready for this, Naomikins?"

"What do you think?" I grumble softly as we take a moment, preparing ourselves for the day to come. To be honest, I think it's gonna be a waste of time. Just looking at Cook and watching him grin seems to support this belief. He throws his arm around my shoulder as we begin our slow walk into the Police station, knowing there's no turning back now.

The moment we enter the building I clock the cameras, which to be fair have become quite the constant in our lives the past week or so having been interviewed prior about my supposed 'delinquent' behaviour. Cook seems to notice them too for he ends up laughing loudly; his roar attracting several heads as they look to him from the reception. I count the three handheld cameras with the people behind them as I nudge Cook and smile tightly, wanting him to shut up.

"Behave." He looks to me with a shit eating grin before taking his arm away and walking into the room, and by walk I mean strut like a male escort, smacking his hands together to get everyone's attention.

"The Cookie Monster has arrived, ladies. Now if ya wouldn't mind formin' an orderly queue, there's enough of me to go round to make everyone feel alright." I shake my head and follow, moving to be near him, be it ashamedly. I'm already over being here and we're barely in the door.

"Mr Cook, take a seat." An officer says bluntly without looking up, presumably ticking off his name on the clipboard that he's holding. He's quite slim, average in height, with thinning short black hair – and greying at that. His looks up and narrows his eyes rather coldly at me though before looking back down to his clipboard.

"Miss Campbell, same goes to you." When none of us make any attempt to move, the officer raises his head, about to blow when another officer intercepts.

"You heard him, sit down!_ Now!_" Cook snickers, lifting his hands in defence.

"Alright, chill the fuck out, yeah? These plonks, man." He says, turning to me with a smile. The rather chubby, bald officer steps towards Cook and confronts him in his face.

"_Sit down!_" Cook chuckles again but sits down into a chair, bowing as he goes. I take a seat next to him, noting the countless eyes and lenses on me as I do.

"Think this funny, eh? You have no idea what you are in for today. Just you keep smirking, girl. Just you keep smirking." I raise my eyes to the officer who continues to stare at me with indisputable contempt, clutching his clipboard like a prized possession. I haven't even done anything and yet he's singling me out for no good reason. Wanker.

I divert my line of sight away from the officer and look around the small reception room, acknowledging the faces that will be joining us today on this special visit to jail. I rest my gaze on a lanky girl with dark brown hair and blue eyes that could easily compete with my own. She's staring back at me, though I can't quite read her expression. The girl sitting next to her however, with her hair in pigtails, oozes fear; lost in her own little world – she must be to be wearing the clothes she does. Her attire looks like she's been shopping blind in a charity shop and picked the colours of the rainbow, twice over.

"Ah Mr McClair, glad you finally made it out of bed this morning, take a seat. Mr Jones, I would like for you to sit next to Miss Moon here, seeing as you're both foolish enough to get yourselves in this mess." I watch as a curly haired boy walks on over to Pigtails and takes a seat, his hands clasped tightly together, shaking slightly. I can just guess what _Mr_ McClair is in for, what with his hooded lids and skater punk attitude; all mellowed out and high as fuck. I know that I like a good spliff every other day, but he looks to ingest at least a dozen a day.

This time I hear the door go, and look towards it in time to see two girls enter – but not just any girls, identical twins. It's only as they come closer that I can distinguish that they aren't exactly identical, but they look alike nevertheless. Their hair is obviously dyed, with one sporting dark purple hair whilst the other dons blazing red hair; and for some reason I can't seem to take my eyes off of her. She has the most vivid red hair I've ever seen, even under these shitty florescent lights.

"Ah, the Fitch twins. You have no idea what's in store for you two once you reach the jail; they don't take too kindly to larceny, girls. Now take a seat." My eyes follow the redhead until I realise she's actually staring back at me, so I avert my eyes.

"Right, quick introductions, I'm…" I zone out then, not because I have no choice, but because I choose to. I have no reason to learn their names or have fucking tea with them and discuss world politics, no. I don't wish to be here, and this is _their_ job, so even though they _have_ to learn our names and see us through today, I believe that we don't have to exactly return the favour in kind. They signed up for this, we didn't. And it's as simple as that.

"Now, you all know why you're here. This program is designed to show what life can be like for young teens like you who are making the wrong choices. It doesn't work for everyone, but it can benefit those that just need a little push in the right direction, or maybe a hard shove depending on some of you." I roll my eyes when Clipboard says this, staring at me. He steps forward to me, glassy eyes vacant of emotion.

"Roll your eyes at me again, go on. Roll your eyes at me again, Campbell!" I exhale softly and stare back at him, finding his presence most annoying, but knowing better than to broadcast it. He turns away from me then and addresses everyone.

"You think this is a joke?! Your parents and carers are doing this for _you._ They care about you, so you need to start bucking up your ideas and see the path that your lives could easily go down if you don't stop now." I look to Cook, who seems to be gaping off into space in typical fashion, until I see that he's actually got his eye on someone.

"Elizabeth Stonem, stand up." Eyes that aren't already on her turn to stare at the seemingly stoic girl who reluctantly stands up.

"What are you in for?" The Stonem girl just stands there mute, looking off into the distance. And suddenly she's not so unlike Pigtails, what with adopting the crazy faraway look she has going on. Maybe she's had one too many puffs like Sloth here, who seems to be eyeing up Stonem. He shakes his head, clearing the matt of black hair from his eyes – yeah, definitely checking her out.

"I asked you a question, Stonem! What are you in for?!" Christ these twats can scream, which sets Shaky off as he looks down at his hands. Stonem doesn't even flinch, but she does concede.

"Drugs, drinking, disobedience."

"And you think what you're doing is right?! That it's cool and _hip_? You're hurting your family with your actions and you're destroying your life, why?! Because it's 'fun', because you're 'bored'?" The men move forward with the cameras then, trying to get in on the action. It's sick is what it is. It's invasive as hell.

"Because I can." I nearly miss it, but I manage to hear the soft retort as I focus back on Stonem and Clipboard.

"Because you _can_? Oh boy do we have a ride for you today, girly. Everyone in jail is there because they thought _exactly_ the same as you. _Because you can?_ Did you hear that, Billy?"

"I did, and you should get this into your head right now because you're wrong. _You can't!_ If you keep on with this can-do attitude of yours, I will guarantee that you'll be in jail with everyone else who thought the can-do approach was right. Sit down!" Stonem sits down as this Billy Baldhead officer moves to Pigtails.

"Pandora Moon, stand up!" The camera pans to Pigtails as she stands up, who appears genuinely sombre.

"Didn't think you'd be enrolled in this program, did you?"

"No sir.."

"But here you are. Do you know why that is?"

"Because I-"

"I can't hear you!"

"It's because I follow, sir." She says louder this time, her eyes boring into Billy Baldhead, blatantly frightened. She's perhaps the only one that seems to be taking this whole pantomime seriously, besides Shaky that is.

"Follow who?"

"Effy."

"Who?!

"Elizabeth Stonem, sir.."

"And why do you follow Stonem?"

"Because she's my friend.."

"Because she's your friend? Your _friend_? So you think friendship is based on following whatever your friends do, be it against the law?"

"I don't do drugs! I don't do everything! I just get-"

"Are you raising your voice at me, Miss Moon?!"

"No, no, I just-"

"So you drink and disobey your mother because your _friend_ does?!"

"No, I just.. I-"

"The sooner you realise that _Elizabeth_ here is _not_ your friend, the sooner you will realise that you're better than this! Don't follow your _supposed_ friends, it's not worth it! Because look where it's got you!" Pigtails looks down as her eyes fill up with tears, clearly on the verge of crying – and the fucking film crew must be having a field trip with this.

"Sit down, Pandora." She sniffs and slides down into her chair, her bottom lip trembling like an infant who has finally located the cookie jar, only for it to be just out of reach.

"Jonah Jones, stand up!" Shaky staggers to his feet, standing tall as his body quivers.

"Yes sir." Ah, he has braces. Poor kid.

"I hear you're a follower just like Pandora here?"

"In theory, yes, but I don't participate in anything illegal."

"Mr Jones, if you weren't doing anything illegal then you wouldn't be here!"

"This is true, but I have not broken any laws. I don't do drugs, I don't drink, I don't steal-"

"And yet here you are, why is that?!"

"My parents worry, particularly my mother.."

"And why is that, Jones?"

"I affiliate myself with individuals who do not adhere to the law."

"You think you're smart, don't you kid?"

"I-"

"Well you're not! You're a follower, and do you know what that says about you? You're making stupid choices! You don't think! You follow McClair because he's your friend, right? Well he's the reason you're here right now, because you followed him, isn't that right? What was it, invasion of the home _and_ theft? Think that's smart, do you?"

"I didn't go in, I stayed outside! I had nothing to do with it!"

"That makes you an accessory, Mr Jones. It doesn't matter if you weren't the one who stole or invaded someone's property; you were present while at the scene of not one, but two crimes. You and Miss Moon will see just what can happen to you if you continue down this route, because you're not a victim! You're not innocent! And they are certainly _not_ your _friends_! Now sit down." Shaky collapses into the chair, his whole body vibrating with tremors.

"Frederick McClair, stand up!" Sloth is slow to the taking, but eventually finds his feet and stands up, appearing half asleep in his hunched state.

"Look what all that weed has done to you, boy! You can barely keep your eyes open! Stand up straight!" Cook laughs while slacking in his chair, playing with the hem of his shirt and bunching it up to reveal his stomach.

"Oi, sit up kid and shut the hell up! You're in my place, you hear me?" I look up to see an officer whose muscles are virtually breaking out of his uniform, his height a daunting aspect from this angle. Cook snickers at the buff guy, but complies, letting go of his top to push himself up on the chair.

"-well lush." I barely catch the end of her sentence as I look over, wondering what she's talking about.

"You got something to say, Fitch?" Buff spits, turning from Cook to glare at the purple tint twin.

"Uh, I wasn't talking to you." Ooh, she's feisty. Snark turns to her sister, about to say something else when Buff gets all up in her face, along with the camera crew.

"Think this is funny? Shut your goddamn mouth and listen! You will speak when we want you to, do you understand me?!" Snark huffs as she folds her arms against her chest, rolling her eyes with obvious annoyance.

"Uncross your arms. I said uncross your arms!"

"Katie.." I look to Red, whose surprisingly husky voice verges on the edge of pleading.

"I'd listen to your sister if I were you, Fitch. You're in our house now, you play by _our_ rules. Now uncross your arms!" Snark exhales loudly and drops her arms, staring anywhere but at Buff.

"Now, apologise for interrupting."

"But-"

"Apologise for interrupting!"

"God, alright. I'm like, sorry yeah?"

"I don't hear you!"

"I'm sorry! Geez. Talk about overreacting."

"You play with me one more time, girl, and I will put you in time out." _Time out? _ What are we, four? Katie sighs though, seemingly defeated this time.

"Good. Sorry about that, Billy. Carry on." Billy Baldhead glares in our general direction before returning his attention to Sloth.

"As I was saying, Mr McClair. Drugs?" Sloth stands without a care for the world, void of complacency as he practically stagnates in front of Bully Baldhead. He shrugs after a long pause, which makes Cook chuckle under his breath.

"You're so goddamn high, kid; I bet you don't even know what day it is!" There's a silence that envelopes the room as we wait for an answer, with Shaky staring at Sloth, as if to telepathically communicate with him the answer. Clearly Sloth doesn't get the memo.

"Uh, Wednesday?" He sputters after a long delay, producing another laugh from Cook.

"I swear to God kid, you better stop laughing. This is no joke!" Buff says, getting in Cook's face before stepping back and looking to Billy Baldhead once Cook behaves. When Cook wants to, he can be the face of virtue, but those times are rare in themselves. He reinforces this by looking to me and smirking.

"It's Tuesday. You still think this a game? Stealing, drugs, drinking, disobeying your parents-"

"Dad."

"Dad?"

"It's my dad, my mums.. She's gone." Billy Baldhead sighs and stares at Sloth with a little bit of compassion.

"This ain't the way to go. You can stop now before it's too late, before everything stays on your record. Think about what your mum would think about this; you think she would want to see you be like this?" Sloth looks down clenching his jaw, exhibiting emotion for the first time. Somehow I feel a bit for Sloth, even though he's clearly troubled - he has his reasons. Reasons I can perhaps understand.

"Sit down." Sloth sits down and before Billy Baldhead can turn to me, Clipboard is already making his way over, a certain glint in his eye. This is going to be fun.

"Campbell, get up." I refrain from rolling my eyes as I push myself to my feet and stand in front of Clipboard, staring him straight in the eye. The advantage of being above average in height, I suppose; I can at least hold my own.

"What are you in for?" I bite my lip, contemplating the question as a whole. What exactly am I here for? So I drink and I smoke, what's the crime? Mum's been rather complacent about it up until now. And it's not like she's one for sending me to these sorts of programs. I just don't see what I'm doing as criminal; it's just life. It's my choice to decide what I do.

"Naomi! I asked you a question and you best answer me before I put you in time out!"

"Naomi..? Naomi Campbell? Oh my god, that's fucking hilarious." I dart my eyes over to Snark who giggles like a brat in her chair, until Buff practically jumps on her.

"That's it! You're going in time out!"

"What? I didn't even do anything!"

"Get up."

"Fuck sake, this is well ridiculous." Buff pulls Snark to her feet and drags her away, as I return my gaze to Clipboard. The fuckwit has the nerve to smirk.

"Still think it's funny, _Naomi?_"

"I'm not the one smirking, _sir."_

"Speaking back are we? I reckon Fitch should have some company in that cell of hers, might teach you a thing or two." Billy Baldhead fortunately intervenes, sensing the tension exuding from Clipboard. I would bet that this happens all the time from the looks of it.

"You were a straight A student, Campbell, what changed?" I stare at Billy Baldhead, noting the sincerity in his eyes. It's like I'm staring between the angel and the devil, what with Clipboard and Billy Baldhead trapping me in. I look to my side to see one of the cameras and can't hold back from exhaling with frustration.

"Do you want to end up like McClair here? Smoking pot every day, or drinking yourself into oblivion? Something tells me that you were going somewhere. What changed? You should think about what you're doing, Campbell. Start respecting your mother. Or else you'll be right back here. Open your eyes today or this will be your reality for the rest of your life." Billy Baldhead turns his attention back to Clipboard, who rolls his head and moves away, surrendering under the influence.

"Sit down, Campbell." I ease myself back into the chair, my eyes looking away and catching sight of a set of brown orbs that stare back.

"James Cook, stand up." I dart my eyes back to my friend and watch as Cook begrudgingly gets up, his stance terribly lax.

"I've heard that you've been quite the influence on Campbell, here. Do you really want her to go down the same path that you're creating for yourself?" He doesn't respond, merely looks straight ahead, trying not to smile.

"Drugs, stealing, drinking, fighting, disobeying authority.. I wouldn't be surprised if you joined a gang tomorrow, or do you like going at it alone? Is that more your style, Cook?" Cook remains unresponsive, blinking every so often to signify that his presence is infact present in this room.

"You really don't care, do you? I can promise you, you won't survive in jail. You think you're cut out for this life, but you're not." Cook finally looks to Billy Baldhead, but doesn't say anything, even though I can tell he's itching to. I'm not sure what's holding him back, either.

"Sit down, Cook." He dismisses Cook as Buff comes back into the room, Snark in tow. She seems a lot more solemn than before, subdued. Buff takes her back to her seat, where she stands.

"Right, Katie Fitch, why don't you recount to everyone in here what you told me. Why are you on this program?" She straightens up slightly as she looks to Buff before staring down to the floor.

"Been stealing, fighting, bad behaviour and stuff." She says tersely, shrugging her shoulder. Clipboard steps to her and loudly exhales out of his nose.

"Fighting? Why would you want to fight?! You're tiny." What a fucking discriminating, stereotyping, dense twat. Clipboard is beginning to seriously tick me off. When Snark doesn't respond he huffs and looks to Red.

"Why don't you stand up too, Emily, seeing as you're partners in crime." The redhead, Emily, stands up. Emily. It's lovely, a pretty name. Buff looks at Clipboard, who sulks and turns away, backing off. Clipboard should consider placing himself in this program with us with the way he fucking speaks to us; I can guarantee he has previous charges – and maybe even unaccountable on-going illegal affairs. Buff returns his attention to the twins, his eyes resting on Emily.

"And what have you done, Emily?" Emily looks to her sister before answering, her eyes dithering until they rest on the floor.

"I've stolen and disobeyed my parents."

"Why do you do it?" She steals another glance from Snark and shrugs in response. Her actions don't add up here, it's as if she's seeking her sister's approval to speak or something. It's weird.

Something tells me that there's a battle between these sisters, a power struggle of sorts that clearly Snark dominates from the looks of things.

"Your parents are worried about you- both of you. Going out at all kinds of hours, not coming back home for days on end, disrespecting authority. And stealing, why do you feel the need to steal? You know your parents love you and will afford anything they can for you! They keep a roof over your head and this is how you repay them?" They stay silent, looking down like naughty children – I guess they are. I guess we _all_ are, in some respects.

"Right, introductory is over, people! We are going to load onto the bus and set off for the prison. We should warn you now; you do _not_ want to disobey us or any of the guards at the prison. You _will_ listen and abide the rules outlined to you today, do you understand?" A chorus of dull affirmatives sound, which pisses Clipboard off.

"Do you understand?!" People speak louder then, seeing that defiance will get them nowhere, yet I mumble all the same, not caring. He looks to me, unblinking.

"Oh, we are going to have so much fun." Why must he insist on separating me from the crowd when (according to their regulations) there are far worse people in here? Asshole.

* * *

We're in the bus, and have been for ages. Thankfully Clipboard is not with us, I really didn't like the look of him and he clearly had it in for me for some reason.

"Eh, Naomikins. What ya thinkin' so far?"

"Piece of cake, what do you think?" He sniggers at my remark, turning to me on the seat.

"Piece of shit, more like. Whole thing is shit. Do ya think this will change anything?"

"Don't know, don't think so."

"Yeah, I'm well hard I am. This shit won't change that." He turns back to the window as I look at him, observing him closely. He's acting nonchalant and like his usual self, but there's a fire brewing underneath; I can see it in his eyes.

I wish I was brave enough to pour water over it now; just stop it before it blazes, but something tells me we're all going to unravel today, whether we want it to happen or not.

"Alright everyone, we're pulling up now." I look away from Cook and to the front, just in time to see Emily turn away. She must have been watching, how subtle.

"Some of you will leave this place the same as you came, but others, well; this experience will change your lives. Just give it a chance, because really, this is the only one you're going to get." Soon we all depart the bus one by one, and forced into an orderly queue. It's as we walk up to the building that I realise Clipboard and Billy Baldhead are actually here, walking alongside us.

"Now, everyone stay on this side of the wall and follow it until I tell you to stop. At all times you _must_ keep your arms behind your back!" I follow the form of Cook, grumbling to myself as I can see Clipboard out of the corner of my eye.

"Keep your eyes straight ahead!" Fucking worm screams in my ear on purpose. Reminds me of what that Stonem girl said; all because he _can._

"Stop here, stop!" We stop and turn just outside of the jail, facing the police officers from the station. Billy Baldhead steps forward away from his crew and looks at every one of us, before diving into an epically long speech.

"Now here are some rules you're going to follow: Number one, when someone is talking to you, you _will_ look at them. Number two, when you have been asked a question, you _will_ answer with either yes sir or no sir. And number three, you're going to be meeting some inmates that were just like you, and have ended up in this place because they failed to stop. Be conscious of your surroundings and do _not_ let your guard down for a _second_. Don't act tough, don't pretend to be someone you're not, because they'll see through you and tear you down. Do you understand?!" The yeses echo through the courtyard until we fall into a collective silence, probably pondering just how this experience will change our lives – if at all.

"Now walk walk walk!" We turn straight ahead and move, heading into the jail one by one.

"Now line up across that wall and lean back against it. I said put your back against it!" Clipboard screams somewhere as guards suddenly appear in the hallway, invading our privacy and getting up in our faces. This is pathetic, we're not fucking animals.

"Keep your arms behind your back!"

"Fuck sake man." I hear Cook say next to me, which makes Billy Baldhead move toward him.

"What did you say? Do you wanna repeat that boy, because I swear you will be in the locker before you can utter a single word! I dare you to speak again. I dare you!" I can sense Cook is about to blow a switch, so I look to him, and just know the instant I do I'm going to live to regret it.

"Campbell, what did we tell you?! Keep your eyes ahead!" Clipboard spouts, spitting in my face.

"Leave her alone, mate."

"I'm not your _mate_! And you better stand back, Cook! Stand back!"

"Or what?"

"Cook-"

"Like fuck I will."

"Stand back and keep quiet!" Clipboard yells, leaning into Cook who pushes back.

"Back down, boy. Back down! You don't wanna do this." I hear Cook breathing heavily next to me, but fortunately he calms down.

"You, come with me." I lift my eyes, not understanding what I did wrong. The guard assists me as we walk into a room. There we meet another guard who regards me with disdain.

"Put your arms on the wall and spread your legs."

"You what?"

"Arms on there and spread your legs, now!" I feel my arms being brought roughly to the wall as my legs are drawn apart, wandering hands soon follow.

"This is fucking assault."

"She's got a right mouth on her, this one."

"Look straight ahead and shut your fucking mouth!" I fall silent, staring at the wall as the guards continues with their search. I hear some people enter the room and then the following instructions recited to the unsuspecting individual. They must cooperate because they don't say a word.

"Right, take that belt off and take your shoes off. Hurry up!" I exhale deeply and remove my belt blindly, feeling my way through it as I glare at the wall. I then take my converse off, and find my belt being snatched from my hands. I turn my head out of instinct, big mistake.

"Did I say you could move?! Did I say you can turn around? Did I?! I'm asking you a question so you better fucking answer it!" He screams into my ear, standing by my side. I bite my tongue, trying to control the surge of anger flowing through me. I sense a few guards leave the room taking our possessions with them, and I feel about ready to explode.

"Answer me you little shit! Did I say you could move?!"

"No sir."

"Then why did you move, Goldilocks?! Think you're above this place, do ya? Think you won't end up here? You keep disobeying us and I can promise you, you will end up right in here and you won't even know what fucking shat on you." I can feel my body quiver as I look at the wall, desperate to do something. I can already hear Cook back chatting outside, and I know that things are only bound to get worse.

"Now turn around." I turn around and look to the guard, who looks between me and Emily, who must have been the person who came in a minute ago. My eyes fall down to her clothed feet, noting the stripy coloured socks. I bat down the smile before it even surfaces, and instead settle on licking my lips and raising my eyes to look away.

"Now do any of you have piercings? Ear, nose, belly buttons, tongue?" I look to Emily who raises her hand rather timidly. The guard nods, and so she reaches to her ears and takes out her piercing, and then another, and another.. Christ, how many does she have? Before I can even begin to hazard a guess, she's opening her mouth and pulling at her tongue to produce another piercing. Jesus.

"Is that all of them, Fitch?"

"Yes sir." She says staring at him as he takes them and bags them. As he turns away she looks at me, her curious browns taking me in. Before I have time to delve further into hers, a guard comes back into the room holding orange jumpsuits. Great, orange is _so_ my colour.

Instead of handing them out like a normal, civilised human being, he throws them at us.

"You've got ten seconds to put them on." I pick mine up from the floor, having not expected the action at all as another guard tosses two pairs of grey flip flops on the floor.

"Yeah, and then put these on." I sneak a glance at Emily before I dash to put on the orange jumpsuit under the intense scrutiny of the guards.

"Hurry up! Get it on!" One screams at me, and then repeats to Emily as I step into it and put my arms through it. I zip it up and step into the flip flops, feeling ridiculous. I notice the bold black words and numbers splayed over the material, and it makes me bitterly laugh, be it internally. I'm officially a number, _just_ what I've always wanted! Though when I truly think about it, aren't we all statistics anyway?

"Move, go, go!" We move with the guards leaving the room.

"Keep your arms behind your backs!" I see everyone against the wall wearing the same attire, except for Cook that is – he's not present at all. My eyes roam around, trying to find him as I join the line. Fuck, he must have done something stupid. I can feel my teeth gnaw at my lower lip, and I swear I won't have one by the end of the day if I keep going at this rate.

"Looking for your little friend, are we? Look at me when I'm talking to you! Think you're ready for what's gonna happen? Think you can make it through the day without crying? I can guarantee you sweetcheeks that you're gonna be begging to leave so you can go home and cry to mummy." I grit my teeth together and try to maintain deep breaths, knowing that I can't really afford to speak out.

"Tosser." But fuck me is it hard to do when your mouth works independently from your brain.

"What did you say? What did you call me?! You think I didn't hear you?! Your mouth will get you into trouble girl, I can promise you. And when it happens, because it will, they will bring you back in here and I will be the first one you see. And I will remember you, Goldilocks. I'll remember you good. So just you keep speaking like this. Fucking bitch." The guard, who I now come to know as Tosser, shares a look with Clipboard, exchanging a leer like it's a game. And here was me thinking that they were supposed to teach us how to be decent members of society. Based on their behaviour, like fuck we will be. Fucking disgrace is what it is.

I turn my eyes to look at Cook when he comes out of a room with a guard; his eyes pitch black with emotion. I can't quite pick out what because there are so many feelings swirling around, and it has me feeling kind of dazed at the sight because it's so unusual to see him this way. He doesn't make eye contact or even register my presence as he stands next to me. I turn my head quickly and look straight ahead, torn between peripherally seeing red and my best friend.

"Now where we're heading, you're going to be able to see and communicate with some of our inmates in one of our cell blocks. These residents will speak to you the way you speak to those who _you_ belittle, hurt and humiliate. They won't tolerate your bullshit. Do you hear me?"

"Yes sir."

"I said, do you hear me?!"

"Yes sir."

"Are you having fun yet?!"

"No sir."

"You're not having fun?!"

"No sir."

* * *

"This isn't fun, it's fucking life. Now turn right and walk. Walk! What the fuck are you doing? What are you, a turtle?! Get fucking walking! Keep your hands behind your backs! Hurry up!" We collectively walk down the narrow hallway, stopping and starting as we pass heavy duty doors. The officers and guards continue to berate us, getting up in our faces and screaming like little fucking girls who don't get what they want. It seriously feels like they are the ones that need to be enrolled in this program, not us.

"Stop!" We stop, and immediately I can hear banging and cursing up ahead. The echoes make it seem that much louder as we stand there and wait for our next command. One of the guards walks past me to the front of the line and opens the door, which generates more noise from the inmates inside.

"Right, you, go in that cell. You, go in that cell. You.." The line thins as we move forward, one by one dispersing into the cell block. I watch as Emily tightens her grip on her hands before she steps into the block, clearly nervous. I follow suit, finally making it into the pale block, noting the crammed two storey room filled mostly with cells and a few bench tables. My eyes are then drawn to the crowd of yelling inmates lined up against the wall to my side, only a matter of yards from me.

"You, go in that cell." I follow his hand and head into a vacant cell on the bottom floor, catching a quick glance of Emily as I go. I immediately turn around and look for Cook, who I see walk my way and into the cell next to mine.

"Right, let's close these doors and leave them to it. You're finally home!" I look to the guard who smirks as the heavy door slides across and closes, trapping me in this little concrete cell. I observe the room quickly; spotting the toilet and metal bed, noting how claustrophobic it feels, but at least there's a window. I turn back to the door and look through the section where a layer of glass would ordinarily be, and see Clipboard. He seems ecstatic, hanging out with the rest of the guards like he's at a funfair. He catches my eye and smirks.

"You hear that? That is the sound of freedom leaving!" I gulp as the pit of my stomach drops with realisation. This could very well be my life if I so choose. I don't have time to dwell though, no, not when the inmates start moving about, running up the stairs screaming and banging. It takes me a moment to realise that not all of them went upstairs as several inmates unexpectedly appear near my door.

And the commotion is far closer than it was before as one inmate literally body slams against the door. The inmate then proceeds to bang against it, trying to create as much noise as possible as another inmate slips his hand through the gap and tries to grab me.

"You think ya bad, eh? Look at ya, chick. Look atcha now! You're in muh cell, girl." His eyes are black, dark with emptiness.

"Ya think you're special, huh? When you come in here I'll make ya my bitch." I roll my eyes knowing that if I _were_ to be imprisoned, males and females would be segregated, but I don't correct him.

"Ya don't believe me, skank? Well maybe you won't be _my_ bitch but you'll be someone else's bitch. And that homie of yours, I'll make him mine. I'll make him do _everything_. He'll be my lover."

"You're just a sick tosser."

"Say that again, broad. Say that again! Please say that again!" He shouts, banging against the door before he sticks his head in.

"Gimme your shoes. Gimme your shoes, bitch! Gimme them. Gimme your shoes! Gimme your fucking shoes, trick!"

"Fuck sake." I bend down and tear one of them off my feet, throwing it at the door.

"Take them, I don't fucking want them." I say, pulling at the other and throwing it too.

"Gimme your suit! Gimme it! Gimme it now, thot. Gimme your suit. Gimme it. Gimme your suit!" The banging continues as I turn away from the door and take deep breaths, not wanting to succumb to more humiliation. The noise eventually decreases to a respectable level, and once it does I turn around, thinking that's it over, but the doors then slide open and suddenly the men are in here, and in my face. Fuck sake, I can't catch a break.

"Didn't think this would happen, did ya?! Trick, gimme your suit! Look at me, bitch! You think ya tough, don't ya! Think this won't be you, but it will one day! And you know what? Then I'll be your daddy." I don't know what possesses me, but I find myself pushing back against the inmate and shoving him with all my might. It doesn't deter him though, he merely laughs in my face.

"Ooh, this rag got daddy issues - should have known with the way ya act. What did he do? He don't _love_ you? He leave you?"

"Shut up." I say, looking elsewhere as the inmates continue to invade my space. I can feel my back pressed against the cell wall, only now just registering how they must have put me there. My eyes fall to the camera crew at the end of the cell, the camera pointed at me like it's all just some sick twisted game of Big Brother. I never asked for my life to be documented. It's my shitty life, and apparently my mother wanted to invite the entire world in on it - because having the name Naomi Campbell wasn't bad enough, was it? Fuck sake.

I must have zoned out, because the guys are yammering on still, and begin to get right in my face again. I can feel their sticky breaths on my face and the way they smell. God, it's vile. As I cringe, I hear a noise above all this sound, and it has me trying to push past the inmates in a heartbeat.

"Ya can't save him, birdy. He got himself in this place, and now look at ya, you gotta look out for yaself, cause ain't nobody gonna help you in here. You're ours now, cutie. _Ours._" I continue to shove against them, not wanting to listen or believe their words, but I feel my disposition crumble with every second that passes.

Out of nowhere a whistle blares and everyone drops to the floor, their bodies flat against the surface as a firearm airs in the block. I quickly find myself to the ground, with my face near the inmate with dull, dark eyes.

"Ain't no girl like you should be caught up in here. There's a whole life out there, why do ya wanna end up in here with people like me?" Though his eyes remain the same, his features do soften, making his words seem mostly believable. The shots continue until they cease, and everyone remains quiet. The nothingness seems to go on forever, and it has me itching to say something, to do _anything_, even scream. But before long, a guard screams for us all to leave the cells.

I notice the gun in the guards' arms and look around trying to find the damage, but it must have been blanks because I can't see any. I observe several items on the floor as I hear everyone assemble downstairs. We move near the tables, and I notice that Shaky isn't wearing his jumpsuit, along with Pigtails, and that Emily has lost her flip flops along with me. It's good to know I wasn't the only one. My eyes eventually find Cook, who seems to be out of his element, as if detached. I try to catch his eye, but he avoids me.

"Right, everyone who lost an item go get it and sit on this table. The rest of ya sit here. Come on, hurry up! Lunch is served." I head back to the cell to retrieve the flip flops, keeping my eyes on the inmates now lined up against the wall, mumbling and making eye contact with me.

"Fucking hate flip flops." I turn my head to look at Emily, wondering if this was just her verbalised opinion or a conversation starter. I reckon the latter, for she's staring right at me, as if waiting for me to respond. Yet before we can even attempt to converse, Tosser is beckoning for our return.

I sit down on the appointed table and allow my eyes to study Pigtails, Shaky and Emily before scanning over to the other table consisting of Cook, Stonem, Sloth and Snark. I'm not sure why but it's unsettling to see Cook behave this way, being so quiet and indifferent. Everytime I've heard him react verbally, I haven't been around to see it, always having to hear it from a distance. It's disconcerting because I'm not used to being placed so far away from him. Even these tables' that are mere steps away feel all too far; he's close but not within reach, not quite.

"Here ya go, ya feast awaits. Dig in. Go on! Eat it!" The inmate says, putting down the containers that are filled with inedible crap. Pigtail's has already opened her lunch and is staring down at it with discontent, actually cringing at the sight of it.

"Ew, this looks well bonkers.. Is it food?" I hear Emily snicker next to me as she opens her very own container. I open my own, trying to block out the screaming in my ear, sensing that the camera is rolling not far away from us. Dippy people think they're scary just because they raise their voices and get up in our faces like they're thugs for TV. Ain't nobody got time for that.

"Eat it, baby girl! It was made with love – we made it ourselves, didn't we Chins?"

"Damn right, Jaden. Blood, sweat, tears and a whole lot of crap went into making that meal. We have that _every_ day. Mmm, smells lovely, don't it? Eat up! Eat it, trick." The inmate cries, bending over to intimidate Pigtails. She hunches over the table looking down at her meal, probably wishing it would just disappear.

"Please don't go rar-rar again." She utters quietly, keeping her eyes firmly down.

"Then eat up, princess! Fine dining right here. Won't get this in a 5 star restaurant." I pick up my plastic fork the same time that Pigtails does and proceed to play with the food, whereas she scoffs it down, gagging as she goes.

"Eat up, Goldilocks!" Tosser screams in my ear, which has me seething like a kettle ready to blow. I pick up a forkful of what looks like white rice, but Christ only knows what the gunk is, and put it in my mouth. The taste bites immediately, and I find my eyes water as I try to swallow it.

"Lovely, right? You'll be lucky to have two meals a day and that's it! No menu, no specials, no snacks - nothing! And all you get with it is tea." Tosser says, dropping the plastic cup down heavily, making it splatter slightly onto the table.

"I said _lovely, right_?! Answer me, Campbell!"

"Yes sir."

"Drink your tea. Drink it!" I reach out and gingerly take the cup, bringing it to my lips and taking a sip. Yep, the infusion is as expected; bland, cold, watery as shit. Suddenly the usual school lunches don't seem nearly as bad, hell they're far more appealing compared to what's in this box full of inexplicable grub.

"Enjoy." I watch as he leaves, smirking to Clipboard who seems to still be around, even though I wish he would just fuck off and die in a hole already.

"Fucking tossers, the lot of them." Emily seems to find this funny, as she giggles softly. I'm pretty sure I have tinnitus in my right ear now thanks to these idiots.

"You think this is funny, girl?!" An inmate demands boisterously, moving to where Emily sits. I watch as her expression shifts to fear, looking rather afraid for the first time as her eyes roam over the inmate like a foreign subject she's trying to discern. It happens quickly then; one minute her meal is in front of her, and the next the inmate has swiped it on the floor.

"Pick it up. I said pick it up now, lil red ridin' hood!" She sits there for a moment perhaps in shock until the inmate leans over her, getting in her space, which forces her to move away and stagger to her feet.

"Bitch, what ya food on the floor for? Ya know what, why don't ya just sit down there and eat it, ya bet these floors are clean! You can't go wastin' food around here, girl. Get on that floor and eat, now!" The inmate practically shoves Emily down to her knees, which has me working mine in a matter of seconds.

"Leave her alone." The inmate chuckles and sizes me up, even though we're comparable in height.

"Ooh, look at this, trying to protect your friend. What ya don't understand is that you don't have friends in here! Think you're a big shot trying to hold her back when really you're making a fool of yaself, ho. Ain't she or anyone do what you're doing. Your family is all you got man, but when ya in here, not like they can help ya. Ain't nobody got your back in here but you, man." I look down at Emily who has her back to me, her form shaking slightly. I eventually glance up to where Snark is, wondering whether she'll do anything about this, but she just remains seated across from us, her eyes evading this scene which I know everyone is aware of – even Cook.

"Sit down, Campbell!" Fucking Clipboard, give it a fucking rest! I turn to look at him, about to speak when someone saves me the breath.

"How about you sit _your_ arse down, dickhead. Leave Blondie alone." I turn back to Cook, feeling grateful but worried for his admission, knowing that it will create an unattractive crossfire. Clipboard stands there, looking at Cook with undeniable loathing.

"You think you're untouchable, Mr Cook, but you're not. You're common as fuck! And when you come back in here, and you will, you'll see just how insignificant you are."

"Gonna have to cut that out." I hear Tosser exclaim, actually having the audacity to laugh as he eyes the cameramen. They don't respond, which for the first time since they've been around, I'm appreciative of. The officer's behaviour should be shown to the world; it's only fair if ours is.

"Yeah, they'll cut it out." Clipboard reiterates gently in a hopeful tone, his eyes checking the cameramen for any inclination of what they will do. They remain as impassive as ever, and dare I say, neutral? Suddenly these cameras and the men behind them don't feel like they're judging us, but merely trying to understand our actions and the ones in control of these kinds of institutions. If this is really how it works, then surely they're breaking certain ethical and health and safety rules?

The inmates seem to be stumped; gravitating towards each other and nearing the wall like it's their refuge, it probably is since the moment they were brought here and this routine was drilled into their system. And now it all comes so _naturally _to them, submitting to authority. And it makes me wonder whether what they're doing here is at all right in the sense that sure, prior to being in jail they were broken, non-conformist individuals who had wrongdoings and downfalls. But by putting them in here, they're essentially stripping them of any sense of identity, forcing them into becoming inhospitable creatures. It's a barren, distorting existence in here. And inmates die not being people; they die being inmates. This place is just a wilderness contained by privileged people who care not for rehabilitation or second chances. They just want to live in a world where only the superlative people reside; anyone else who does not meet their requirements or is deemed too different or flawed will be transported here because they could not care any less and do not desire to help those that are still worth saving.

We won't learn from those in control; we will only learn from those that are incarcerated, for they are the true people to exist in this place.

"Clean it up!" I snap out of internal monologue to see Emily placing handfuls of unidentified crap into the container, looking rather blank.

"Everyone up!" Can this day _get_ any better?

* * *

"You see this? You get one hour a day, _one hour_ to come out of your cells and into this yard. You don't even get to see the light of day!" I look around the recreation yard, noting the pathetic small windows above, before tightening my grip on my hands behind my back.

"And you know what; not _one_ of you will be awarded with this privilege! You think this is your downtime? That you can finally breathe?! Well I say no! Get on your knees and give me 10 push ups! Go go go!" We all pretty much descend sluggishly to our knees, not exactly dying to exercise.

"Count with me! 1 sir."

"1 sir."

"I can't hear you!"

"1 sir!" We continue like this for a while, repeating back to the guard our progress before he tells us to stand and run around the yard. As I jog, I see Cook pass me with a smirk on his face, which prompts a smile in return. It's then that I stupidly make eye contact with a guard as I do, and inwardly sigh as I hastily try to remove it.

"You think this is funny, Campbell? Drop and give me 20! Now! Get down onto your knees and give me 20!" I roll my eyes and get down to my knees, catching sight of the camera crew.

"Fuck sake.."

"What are you looking at?! Did I tell you to look at them?!" I can hear everyone else running around as Mr Douche continues to scream at me.

"1 sir."

"2 sir."

"3 sir."

"You still think this is funny?!"

"4 sir."

"5 sir." I feel a force on my back pressing me down, which makes me impact the ground rather ungracefully.

"Answer me, I asked you a question, _blondie_!" Fuck sake.

"Eh, get your hands off of her, yeah." I can already sense the atmosphere alter with the way Cook impulsively calls out.

"I'm not doing anymore, this is bullshit. I'm tripping over in these flip flops and I've already chipped my nail because of this stupid place."

"Katie, shut up."

"Are you talking?!"

"Keep running, Cook!"

"No, I've had enough of this place. Mum and dad are so fucking stupid for putting us in here, Ems."

"Katie, _please_, just shut the fuck up."

"Get off her, yeah!" The screams last a matter of seconds before I'm being forced to my feet and escorted out of the yard with several furious people in tow.

"This is ridiculous! Where the fuck are you taking me?!"

"Let go of me, man! I mean it; get the fuck off of me or Cookie will explode all over the lot of ya."

"You couldn't just shut up, could you, Katie?" We're taken into a room before they separate us, placing Emily in a detention cell with me and Cook and Snark in another. Seems we've finally been put into time out, kids.

"You keep disrupting this program, and I promise you ladies, I will personally take you in myself. You may think this is a joke and act like it is one, but it's not. We don't have to be doing this for you, we don't have to be trying to save your arses, but I do, and we try! But it's up to you! Once you leave today, you can feel free to fuck up and go down this road you're paving for yourself, but for today you will goddamn listen to what we're saying and pay us with a little respect!" The guard goes to leave but looks back, not quite done.

"Best get used to hearing these doors close on you, because it's gonna happen for the rest of your life if you don't stop what you're doing now." He slams it closed and locks it, effectively walking away from this situation as to leave us to stew for god knows how long.

I still feel slightly out of breath and dehydrated as I stand there exhausted beyond belief, but in a very mental and real way. I bring my hands to my face and cover it, desiring to just end this intervention already before I remember that I'm not actually alone. I drop my arms to my side and look to Emily who is sitting down on the bare concrete 'bed' at the end of the cell. She offers me a small smile before looking away, as if suddenly remembering that I caught her watching and feeling quite embarrassed about it.

"This is all a bit shit, isn't it?" I snicker at her choice of words and nod the once, taking a seat down beside her.

"Could say that." I look to the door when I hear screams through the open metal flap. Can't really see much out of it, but you can definitely hear, that's for sure.

"Goddamn it Katie."

"She always like this?" I feel slightly bad for insinuating, but she seems not to mind. She exhales deeply and turns to me, her eyes staring again. I know this because I can feel her eyes on me without even looking. She takes a breath before she asks.

"Have you ever seen The Fifth Element?" I glance at her then, curious as to where she's taking it.

"Yeah." I say slowly, observing how her features soften and her eyes grow rich with emotion.

"She's the female equivalent of Ruby Rhod; same clothes, same attitude, same _fucking_ voice." I chuckle, watching as she turns away from me with a frown, but a small smile intact also.

"She sounds nice."

"Yeah, if you like a thousand bees swarming around your ears on a regular basis."

"So no love lost between the two of you then?" A genuine smile appears then, and it's quite the sight. It has me conscious of my eyes, and how I don't want to blink in case it goes away.

"She's my sister." The smile slowly disappears much to my dismay. As odd as it may seem, I kind of felt like a flower in that instant; gravitating towards her in the act of photosynthesis but now I'm shriveling away, just hoping that smile will resurface so I can swell with feeling once again.

This girl is seriously something; imagine if Cook could see this, I'd never hear the end of it. So before I lose myself, I need to rein it in with a bit of perspective.

"So you steal?" She looks at me incredulously, her features hardening.

"So you drink?" I come close to laughing but refrain for her benefit, and play my turn.

"So you misbehave?"

"So you smoke?"

"I think we've established why we're in here now." I say, wishing to defuse the inflating tension before it becomes a situation. She sighs and looks away from me, fiddling with her hands – she's nervous.

"You're a follower, aren't you?" Her eyes shoot to me, leaden with emotion.

"What?" It's in the way she sounds so startled that I just know that my hunch is right, and it fuels me on.

"The bullshit they said about, the whole 'following' in someone's footsteps. You're not her equal, you're her follower." I clocked her the second she came into the room, and I knew just by the way she was interacting with her sister that things don't match up – that she shouldn't even be here, much like the other foolish participants, Shaky and Pigtails.

"I'm not a _follower_. I-"

"Try to return the products, right? Try to help your sister out; because she's the one who's _actually_ committing these crimes, you're just her lackey. And you do this _all_ because she's your sister." I'm not sure why I have a smirk on my face; I know it's not exactly funny, but watching her mask crumble has me feeling rather triumphant. I called out on her shit within a couple moments of seeing her interact with Katie, and yet these bastards can't even distinguish between the two!

"You think this is funny? You think I _want_ to be here? It's all just a mess." She gushes heavily. I instantly feel remorseful, dropping the smirk as I watch her begin to fall apart. I awkwardly shift closer and place my hand on her shoulder, patting a few times.

"She's so fucking stupid. I told her this would happen but she just wouldn't listen. She knows that I would do anything for her, and now look where it's left me. I'm so fucking stupid." I bite my lip not knowing what to say, or whether I should speak at all – though I strongly disagree with her last opinion.

"So I am, yeah. I'm in here because of my sister, and that's on me! What about you? Why do you do what you do? Because you think this is all a game, because you're bored? You have no one else to blame but yourself!" She swipes my hand away and does a complete 180, standing up to glare at me with such unfounded venom; I find myself flinching at the sight.

"Well? Cat finally got your tongue,_ Naomi_? At least I'm doing this for a reason, at least I know why I'm in here, but you.. You don't even know." I feel the turmoil encompass me, fraying me slowly; overcoming me with so many sensations that I don't think I can even focus on one alone. I'm fucking angry that's for sure, but I'm also distinctly sad. She doesn't even know me and yet feels the need to judge me.

Yet I suppose I started it. It _is_ why we're in this predicament in the first place.

"I.. I can't take it. I know I'm hurting my family, but, it's like I'm not even there if I don't. No one cares about me. But then there's dad and.. I hate what it's doing to him." My eyes look away then, my heart expanding at the thought. She must see the shift, because she latches onto this.

"What? What is it? I said something that clicked, didn't I? I saw it. You felt something." I shake my head and look away, but this doesn't deter her whatsoever, if anything it encourages her. It's just my luck that I had to be locked up with this twin; I'd much prefer Snark at this stage.

"Tell me, Naomi." She kneels down on the floor; the orange jumpsuit offends my eyes so I turn away.

"There's nothing to tell."

"I said something, and you reacted. I saw it. It's the first time I've seen anything from you."

"What do you mean? I'm here, I'm speaking."

"Feeling, Naomi. You've been so, switched off.. Cold, just like Elizabeth."

"Fuck sake, why are you speaking to me like we're friends? We don't even know each other." She stands up then, which draws my attention back to her. She simply crosses her arms and offers me a strict small smile.

"We may not be friends, Naomi, but I know you. From this day forward, I will know you and there's nothing you can do about it." The words barely leave her mouth before the cell door flings open.

"Get up!" I stand up next to Emily and copy her pose, realising too late that it's probably not a wise decision to make.

"Arms behind your backs!" We comply quickly standing tall, if not fucking jaded from this little pet talk.

"Yes sir."

"Have you had time to think about your behaviour?"

"Yes sir."

"And it's not right to disobey authority, is it girls?"

"No sir."

"So what do you say?" I clench my jaw before slackening it, seeing the guard turn to me.

"Sorry sir."

"That's right. Now we're heading back in to chat with a few inmates. Try and not fuck about this time, otherwise you won't just have us to answer to. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

* * *

We return to the group and move to a cafeteria of sorts, sitting individually on separate bench tables, bar Emily and Snark. My eyes stray to Cook who winks at me, but I can't quite bring myself to react in fashion. He begins to frown, noticing my cold demeanour until the door bursts open and numerous inmates come waltzing in like they own the place – I suppose they do.

"I call dibs on vanilla, how about ya come back to my cell and we can get to talkin', if ya know what I mean!" The orange clad inmate thrust his hips at me before being redirected to another table by a guard. It's only as he walks away that I notice the restraints on his feet and hands.

"Whatcha doing in here, snookums? You could be anything ya want, look at you! You get the grades too right, so why ya up in here for?" An inmate rambles, sitting down in front of me.

"Ya think this is a joke, man. Look at me." He clangs his cuffs against the table, his unyielding eyes staring straight at me.

"I could have gone to college, I could have done the whole thang; had a scholarship and fam and the girl, and I fucked it all up cause of drugs. Why you wanna do that, safe?" I look away then, trying to ignore how my chest is constricting with every word he says.

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Well you gotta know man, 'cause doing this; all the drinking, drugs and being disrespectful to yo mama will get you into a place like this, and you won't have ya life anymore." My eyes jump from table to table, seeing the conversations taking place, wondering if they're making an impact at all. I soon rest my eyes on the Fitch table, noting how Snark jabbers away with the inmates like they're long lost friends she's catching up with on this fine Tuesday evening rather than detained criminals who are _probably_ wanting to put a muzzle on that. My eyes naturally seek out Emily, who rolls her eyes and looks away from her sister, connecting her gaze with me.

"Look at me, man. There something, ain't there? You can try and hide it, but it's in your heart. It's there, and I can see it. It's eating you away man, and ain't nothing gonna be left if you don't stop now." Great, that's the second person to supposedly 'see' something – funny how it's neither the police nor the guards. I exhale and look to him, not knowing _what_ to do anymore; it all just feels so fucked up.

"We're not so different, girl. We got one life and we know things about this world that others don't, but you, you can do something. You can _be_ someone. I can't. I blew that a long time back, man. Save yourself. Lose the gang and accept yo fam, they all you got. Drop those who weight ya down, cause ain't they going anywhere but in this doghouse. You don't have to be here. You got time. And you know, girl, that all I got too, but I can't apply myself in here, I can't do _shit_ now. But you got freedom; you can do what ya want! Make the right choice. Love yo mama and stay in school. Hug her man, kiss her, tell her ya love her, because at the end of the day, man, she all you got." I'm not sure why, but it pains me. I feel it hit me, and I push myself to my feet, stepping over the seat to walk away.

"Campbell! _Campbell_!" A guard appears in front me, grabbing me.

"I uh.. I need the toilet." I look down sheepishly, coming to my senses. I dare to look at the guard fearing he will rage, but he looks at me and nods.

"What the _hell_ is she doing?" Clipboard cries, storming over here, causing a few heads to turn.

"I'm taking her to the restroom."

"Like hell she can just up and authorise herself to go to the toilet! I've been waiting to do this _all_ day." He forces me to turn around, my back to him as he grabs my arms and forces my hands together until I feel handcuffs lock them in place.

"Roger, that's not necessary. She asked me before she stood up, I gave her permission. I just wanted her to listen to the inmate first." Clipboard, I mean _Roger_ seems to just stand there in his own world, deciding what to do next.

"You're telling the truth, Brendan?"

"What reason would I have to deceive you?" Clipboard growls and reluctantly uncuffs my hands, which I immediately bring forth and rub.

"Hands behind your back, Goldilocks! Or else you _will_ be in handcuffs, do you understand me?" Clipboard threatens, pulling my arms behind my back again. I seriously hope a pigeon shits in his eye. And from the looks of it, Brendan hopes for it too. Clipboard leans close, and I instinctively shudder preparing myself for the outburst but he merely whispers in my ear.

"Just give me a reason." On second thoughts, I hope he chokes to death on pigeon shit, would be far more entertaining to watch. The guard, Brendan, then accompanies me out of the room, and the second we're alone I can't help but ask.

"Why did you do that?" I'm hoping he won't play the dumb card as we arrive outside the restroom door. He scans the hall and then looks back to me.

"I heard what that inmate said to you.. Clearly you were upset and needed a moment, can't exactly do that with the cameras around. And anyway, Roger can get a bit carried away sometimes."

"By sometimes you mean all time?" He laughs through his nose and opens the restroom door.

"No comment, Campbell. And besides, I'm doing you a favour right now, don't think you can act in charge and ask questions. Now go on, you have a couple minutes." I move into the toilet noting how small it is, before turning to watch as he closes the door. I stand there not even needing the loo, just needing a respite from all this fucking madness.

I head to the sink and place my hands onto it, taking a few breaths to steady myself. When did things get so hard? I look into the small mirror and snicker. I know when. I know exactly when.

There's a bang on the door, followed by Brendan's voice.

"Times up, Campbell."

* * *

I exit the toilet to see everyone lined up against the wall, presumably waiting for me.

"Nice for you to finally join us! Now get your arse in line. Keep your arms behind your back!" Arck. I join them and we slowly walk, passing through other hallways before we come to a natural stop.

"Now if you're lucky and you've been real good, you're allowed visitation rights. But don't start thinking you'll get to hug and kiss your mother, because you won't! You won't be able to touch them at all. You'll only be able to see them through a glass screen and speak to them through a phone! This is what it's like, kids. And this is all you'll get. Now Frederick, you're up first. You lot stay here in this line until you're called up, keep your arms behind you at all times and do _not_ speak." Clipboard babbles, turning to Sloth and dragging him through a nearby door with Tosser leaving Brendan, Billy Baldhead, Mr Douche and a few other guards here to monitor us. Mr Douche and a few of the guards must get bored because they end up walking off with Billy Baldhead, leaving Brendan here alone. His walkie-talkie radio thing goes off moments later so he steps aside to answer it, but not before giving us all a strict warning first. His back is not even turned for a second before Cook's talking.

"Naomikins?" I hear Cook murmur in the line. I gaze up to see the backside of Emily, with her head tilting to the side like she's trying to look ahead.

"Cook, shut up." I say in a hushed tone, which causes him to chuckle lightly. Brendan looks back to us and I stand up tall, looking straight ahead as to not cause attention. He stares at us for a moment before resuming his conversation on the radio, turning his back slightly to us again.

"Be brave." I narrow my eyes at the back of her head, wondering whether she was speaking to me or someone else. She answers my question when she turns her head to the side again, showing me half of face, her eyes looking back at me, repeating.

"Be brave." Clipboard bursts back into the hallway with Tosser and Sloth in tow. They walk into the vacant room opposite whilst Clipboard saunters toward me and scowls.

"Campbell, you're up!"

I move with him, passing Emily who watches me go. I don't know what it is about her, but she unnerves me. I don't have time to think about it though as we enter the room and walk past several cubicles, stopping when I'm told to. I sit down and I look ahead of me at the glass, just waiting for something to happen – and it does. She sits down opposite me looking rather grim, even though she attempts to smile at me; it quite doesn't reach her eyes. A guard by her side indicates toward the phone and she exchanges a few words with him; more than likely thanking him and stating how backward she is when it comes to technology these days. She eventually picks up the phone, and I follow suit. I think she half expects me to speak first because we both remain silent for a moment, just staring at each other through the glass.

"How is it in there, love?"

"Oh, you know, like being in Cyprus."

"Naomi.."

"What do you think, mum?" She sighs, her expectations withering away before my eyes, and it does something to me. It's not like she hasn't looked at me in this way before, but something in me snaps this time, and I find myself just blurting it out:

"I found him."

"Found who, dear?"

"My father." She looks about to lose grip on the phone before she clutches it to her face, pulling it close as she leans in.

"You.. You found David?"

"Something like that."

"Naomi.. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because- because I… It's always been us, and it's been fine, but then I just wanted to know, and you never spoke of him, so I searched for him with Cook-"

"James helped you?"

"Yes, he's not half the prick you believe him to be. He supported my decision and helped me."

"Oh love, I would have supported your decision too. You should have spoken to me about it; I would have told you anything you wanted to know about him. You already know he was quite the alcoholic before he buggered off."

"Everytime I brought him up you said he was useless, like that was the extent of the conversation before you resumed something _far_ more important like Chai tea or going to a protest about burning bras."

"Is this… is this why you're in here? Am I-did I do this?" Her eyes enlarge like saucers, her question leaving me completely thrown because how absurd is that? If I've learned anything from today it's that I _am_ responsible for my own actions. I placed myself in this seat; she's just the one who's fighting for me to be better, to not be here at all.

"No. I did this. I found.." I feel the lump form in my throat, stopping me from continuing.

"Wrap it up, Campbell." I look to Clipboard who seems thoroughly bored by what's going on here. My eyes then dart to the camera crew before resting back on my mother whose eyes plead for me to give her an answer, _something._

_Be brave._

"I found out he's dead." I put the phone down, unable to meet her eye gaze as I stand up and leave. For the rest time Clipboard doesn't scream at me as he leads me away, my arms to my side.

I make my way into the room and sit down next to Sloth, hardly registering anything else at this point. I must zone out because by the time I look up several others are in here, including Emily whose eyes are firmly on my form. I look to see Shaky and Stonem here too before returning my gaze to Emily. I watch her mouth three words, the question just burning to be answered, but before I can even think about it Cook comes in with Clipboard and flops down next to me. Tosser then walks back out with him, leaving us alone momentarily.

"Ain't nobody 'ere for the Cookie but you babes." I turn my head to Cook but keep my eyes on the officials by the door.

"She didn't show up?"

"Na, princess." He sounds so gutted that I find myself reaching out and grabbing his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before I drop it. Tosser returns back into the room as I look ahead, placing my arms in place. I don't think he even cares at this point because he's doodling shit down on a notepad, no longer the vigilant guard from before.

After a while the others join us, and all the officers and guards end up rolling into this cramped room too.

"Now, I know we've been hard on you today – it's just that we don't want to see you come back here. You're better than this, all of you. We don't want you to end up here because what you think you're doing is 'fun', it's not fun. This is life and death, kids. And that's what you are still; kids. And you only get the one life, so live it right, _do_ it right. Otherwise you'll be back here with us, and we won't even give you the consideration that we've given you today. You deserve it now, but if you end up in jail, then that's all on you. You can come back from this; you can do better, _be_ better, and be smarter. Love your family, let their love guide you because they are the only people who will give a damn about you in this world, I promise you that. Now everyone take those jumpsuits off, and make a vow to never return back here to wear them ever again." I shuffle out of the grab, fortunate to see my clothes on underneath and to discard this abomination. We assemble into a line again as we enter the hallway clutching the uniform, grateful to be leaving this place. Clipboard passes and stops by Cook, who's in front of me.

"Cook, you'll be heading home with Ms. Campbell and Naomi here as your mother didn't show." Cook seems to take it in his stride, but I know him better than that – I know it's hurting him with every heartbeat. I quickly reach out and grab his hand, which he crushes in my own before dropping it. I hate seeing him like this. If only the world fucking cared and took time to realise the pain that exists, then maybe we could rise above this and collectively help each other out.

We enter another room and hand over our attire and in return receive our shoes and accessories back. As I put on my belt and knead down my top, I feel significantly more human than five minutes ago. The end is in sight, I can practically taste it in the air – the fresh air that only freedom can provide. And Christ knows we deserve a lungful after today.

We eventually arrive in the reception room and see all the expecting parents and guardians sitting down, looking our way. My eyes immediately sought out my mother, who sits there holding a tissue with red eyes. Fuck.

"Jones, is there anything you'd like to say to your parents before you leave?" Shaky stands forward from the line and looks to who I presume to be his parents.

"Mum, dad, I'm sorry. I, Jonah Jeremiah Jones; your son, am sorry. This experience has taught me that although Freddie is my friend, and that he will always be in my life, that I cannot afford to situate myself in all aspects of his. I realise now that by being involved, no matter how partially, I am an accomplice and will be punished accordingly. I promise to limit time with him, focus on my studies and start being the son that you not only need, but want me to be. I love you." If that doesn't make for good TV then I don't know what will. For someone who somehow found themselves in this intervention, he really is a goody two shoes.

Naturally his mother blubbers and his father stands awkwardly, nodding his head in earnest as Shaky heads on over to his parents, who bring in him into an uncomfortable looking hug. I roll my eyes and look away, noting how one of the camera crew must be zooming in on the family like a creepy fucking voyeur.

"Stonem." She steps forward, her body moving like a fucking swan in a pond as she stares blankly ahead.

"This experience was informative." She must sense Clipboard's impending attitude because she cares to elaborate – which I'm guessing she doesn't do a whole lot of the time.

"Enlightening. I appreciate being in this program, was educating." She's so selective in what she says, that people are _bound_ to overlook what she's _actually_ trying to say. It's methodical and shows that people are ignorant insofar that they will only acknowledge what they want to hear instead of what's _not_ being said.

Stonem moves to her parents, who stand up and seem satisfied with this answer as her mother pulls her into a bone crushing hug. Her father stands awkwardly to the side of them like he's constipated and just waiting for it all to be over so he can go home to use the shitter.

As I look away from him, I notice Stonem staring directly at me over her mother's shoulder baring a deliberate smirk, as if to say 'no one has even come remotely close to touching me today'. And I believe that. I also believe that no one ever will. Not even her dear friend Pigtails, who is then called up next.

"Mum! I'm so blooming sorry! The food in here is well disgusting and the people smell like turds and I really don't like how they speak to me like they're going to make monkey with me without my say so and I really _really_ want to come home because I've learned my lesson, honest! Please don't leave me in here, mum. I'll be better! I'll behave. I'll do things right and I promise I won't talk to boys and I'll-"

"What have we _discussed_ about remaining calm, Pandora?" Her mother says, looking rather embarrassed as her eyes frantically examine the faces watching them. Pigtails takes a few breathes, trying to calm down her jamming heart.

"Oh right, yes, yes! I will try and be calmer and I'll do nightly exercises again, promise!" Pigtails then runs to her mum who shakes her head at her, which makes Pigtails stop and attempt to walk slowly to her. They then embrace clumsily, with Pigtails clinging on for much longer than her mother wants her to.

"Pandora. _Pandora!_" Pigtails pulls back and smiles tentatively at her mother before looking down.

"Cook and Campbell." I look to Cook who nods to me, stepping forward. I begrudgingly do the same and then regard my mum, noting how though the tissue has now gone; she seems to be upset still. I suppose confessing how my father - who was perhaps at one stage the love of her love - is now dead _kind_ of does that to you.

"I ain't perfect, Ms. G. And I know you know that, but I ain't all bad either. Your kid is a goodun, she still on the straight and narrow, swear on me life. She's the best thing I have going and she don't even know it. So yeah, this experience was alright, it didn't terrify me much but what did scare me is Blondie being in here, and mostly because of me, or like, indirectly cause of my actions and what I do and stuff. I don't wanna be in here. I ain't saying I'm gonna change overnight, but I know that I can be better and do less shit. Cause I need her, Ms. G. I need her in my life. So please.. don't stop me from being in hers." I stare at Cook, not quite believing the speech came from him. It was, dare I believe, heart-warming. It's enough to even reduce my mother to tears.

"Oh James, I would never want to do that, to either of you. You must know that even if I don't agree with your lifestyle at times, you are practically a son to me. I would never disown you, and neither would Naomi. We're family, dear." I look between Cook and mum, noting the tears in both their eyes. It's quite a sight to see, and I never saw this coming.

"Naomi?" I look to Clipboard, who actually seem genuinely sympathetic – where was that guy all day, huh? Where was _Roger_ all day? I sigh and return my gaze to mum, seeing how she's full to the brim with tears that are longing to burst over and cascade her face. And they do, and it stuns me as I watch this happen.

It feels weird knowing that I am the reason for putting them there in the first place.

"Mum.." I gnaw at my lip, noting how her lips tremble slightly, trying to refrain from sobbing, no doubt.

"I.. I just wanted to feel something. I'm not sure what, but.. I've been numb for a while now." I can see her eyes begging for clarification, for answers that I have no option but to give.

"A while being 5 months."

"Since this all began? Oh love, you're _grieving!_ Of course you're-"

"I still smoked before this mum. I still drank."

"You really think I care about that? It's not like I'm one to judge, dear. But the distance, your school work, the arguing, the pulling away from me, this was because of.." I nod, looking down. Cook reaches out and takes my hand, holding it tight.

"I didn't know what to do or how to be. I didn't feel _me_ anymore. And I know it's silly because it's not like I had him in my life to begin with, so why should I feel so lost without him?"

"Naomi.." I don't look up as I hear her move, charging forward until she pulls me into a hug of epic proportions. I don't believe we've ever actually embraced like this before – maybe because I've been so fucking bitchy that she doesn't dare come near me in case I bite. I feel Cook let go of my hand, but my arms remain deadweight until I can bring myself to move them around my mum, holding on as she pulls me closer to her.

"I love you, Naomi. And I'm so sorry I deprived you of knowing your father." I hear her mumble into my shoulder.

"No, I'm sorry that I even went looking for him. You were right all along. It did nothing for me anyway." I reply, burying my head into her neck. After a beat, she pulls back, swiping the tears from her face before she stops, looking shocked. She then caresses my cheeks and runs her thumbs over the patches of skin; skin which is wet – fuck, I'm crying.

"Love, I should have given you the choice." I feel mortified and fucking ashamed as the tears flow from me, blurring my vision. I instantly seek shelter in the one place I've been depriving myself for a long time; my mother's arms. After a while of rocking and holding and even Cook joining in on our embrace, we disengage from one another and move awkwardly away from prying eyes. I can hear the distant talks of the others on top of my mother and Cook speaking, their arms still holding on to me. But my eyes have found Emily who is standing forward with Snark, and who happens to be staring at me, and I finally get round to answering her question from earlier. I mouth the words 'I'm okay', followed by 'be brave', delivering her a piece of her own medicine. Because really, we create our own viruses in this life but what we fail to realise is that the antidotes are inherent within us, and all we've got to do is look within ourselves and find them. She smiles at this and seems genuinely pleased and sympathetic before she returns her attention to her parents, who are now beckoning her. Snark is mid-dialogue – or should I say rant – when Emily just out right states:

"I didn't steal anything, and I don't steal – it's all Katie."

"Ems-"

"No Katie, I've had enough of being forced to take your side. I'm your _sister_, not your fucking lapdog. I'm a _person_, I'm not _you._ I love you, but you have to stop. You have to tell them why you're doing this." I watch Katie cross her arms and fidget, her eyes roaming around, not settling on anyone. Emily huffs and looks back to her parents.

"She's worried you two are going to split up."

"What?"

"You've both been arguing loads and threatening each other, and Katie's just being Katie and instead of actually _talking_ about it, she goes out stealing and fighting and just being a generally stroppy bitch because she's scared. _Tell them._"

"Fuck sake Ems, this goes out on TV, you know!"

"Christ this is turning into a right soap opera." I hear one of the guards' mutter, which makes me laugh. The Fitch clan then get moved to a corner as they're trying to get the shooting finished for the day, and Sloth is still waiting – though isn't that what he does for a living anyway; lounging around wasting time?

Sloth takes a step towards his dad and a girl I presume to be his sister, and just looks at them, probably trying to find the appropriate words in that muddled brain of his.

"I know I went too far with the stealing, it's just I really needed weed and I was desperate.. I never meant for JJ to get involved. But I know I can't keep going on this way. Mum, she.. she wouldn't… she'd be disgusted. And I can't live with myself knowing that. So I'll try, yeah? I'll try, dad. I'm sorry."

I think after what we have been through today, _try_ seems to be the operative word. It's honest, and shows that we won't be able to change overnight, but we will _try_ to be better. Well, with the exception of Stonem that is. Something tells me she won't try for anyone, not even herself.

* * *

I walk out with mum and Cook leaving the rest behind, grateful that it's all over – for now. I know that they will be doing follow-ups at some point, and I'm pretty sure that now all is in the open, I won't exactly be the same person I am in a couple of weeks' time. My mum will make sure of it.

"I should have known that it would take something overstated like this to get the truth out of you, Naomi." I roll my eyes, smiling slightly, secretly hoping that we won't dive into it right here.

"Don't worry dear; we won't talk details in front of prying eyes, at least give me that much credit. But we will be speaking words, Naomi, in the comfort of our home. James, you will be joining us tonight, yes?"

"If that's alright, Gina?"

"Of course, love. You're always welcome." It's then that I hear someone call out from the building, and we stop and turn to see who it is.

"Ah, lil Red, she's had her eye on you all day, Naomikins."

"I see so."

"And you her, yeah."

"Shut up, Cook." We watch as she jogs but then falls into a slow walk as she approaches us, conscious of two sets of eyes that aren't mine, I suppose.

"We'll meet you at the car when you're ready to go. Come on James, let's have a little talk about the prick that is your mum and see about you staying with us on a regular basis." I hear my mother's words and turn to watch them leave, gobsmacked. Cook grins at me; a genuine, all there, no cockiness grin – and it's rather fucking wonderful.

"Hey." I redirect my attention back to Emily, a smile on my face.

"Hey."

"I just.. I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me, for what?"

"Calling me out on my issues, was long overdue."

"Oh. Well, no problem."

"Can I.." She stops and looks down briefly, seemingly unsure before shaking her head and lifting her eyes to me again.

"Nevermind. Just.. Thank you."

"You've already thanked me, Emily." She blushes then, dipping her head, and fuck me she's cute. She seems to mumble to herself and then connect her eyes with me again, nodding her head definitively this time. She then waves rather lamely - but adorably nevertheless - and turns on her heels. My mouth opens feeling the urge to say something, but no words come. I just watch her walk, and it's rather bittersweet, until she stops and turns around sharply.

"I.. I'ma gonna look you up on Facebook later."

"What if I don't have Facebook?" She looks crestfallen for a moment as I smirk, enjoying the banter.

"What kind of person doesn't have Facebook?"

"I don't know - what kind of person dyes their hair red?"

"Ah, look whose speaking, blondie!" I laugh at this, watching how her eyes sparkle at the sound.

"How about I Facebook _you_, Fitch? Reckon it would be easier that way you know, less fake accounts and all." She giggles slightly before realising what she's doing and composes herself, nodding.

"That would be wise, yes. There's only one Emily Fitch." That there is. We fall into an easy silence then, staring at each other with small coy smiles. She takes a few steps back, muttering to the wind; which I am fortunate enough to hear:

"Day 1."

"Day 1 of what?"

"Of knowing you, Naomi Campbell.. I look forward to receiving this friend request; I better have it by tomorrow the latest." She says taking more steps backwards with her eyes still on me, gleaming with happiness.

"Is that so?"

"It is."


End file.
